


Uncle Rickon

by vivilove



Series: Rickon's Tales [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M, Family Feels, Jonsa babies - Freeform, Married Jonsa, POV Rickon Stark, Rickon Stark Lives, book canon setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Tonight, the great hall is silent, almost deathly so, as the snow falls outside. The howling winds, like unsettled spirits, are all he can hear.Sansa may be queen but she was his big sister first. She is also the closest thing to a living mother he has. He’s never said that to her and he doesn’t know that he will. She’s going to be a mother and not to him.(He thinks she might know how he feels about her and hopes she never knows of the pangs of envy he’s felt regarding the babe in her belly.)
Relationships: Jon Snow & Rickon Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Rickon Stark & Sansa Stark
Series: Rickon's Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063277
Comments: 71
Kudos: 294





	Uncle Rickon

**Author's Note:**

> From Anon's prompt of 'silence' on Tumblr, this came to mind. I decided to make a little series with Rickon's POV since this pairs with part one but I don't know if there'll be more or not :)

When Rickon was a little boy, which seems so long ago, these halls were rarely silent.

(At least, that is what he _thinks_ he recalls.)

A castle alive with its people, from the lord and lady to the humblest stable hand or scullery maid, Winterfell was always active even in the dead of winter.

(That is what he’s heard. Rickon was born during the long summer but he remembers the honeycakes Gage would make. He remembers his brothers sparring in the yard and his mother’s smiles.)

Sometimes, when there were visitors and feasts, the noise and merriment grew to be too much. It would leave him all wide-awake but snappish with drowsiness, too.

He remembers once on one of those nights Sansa had sat on his bed and sang to him until he’d fallen asleep just as she sometimes does now when he has bad dreams.

She hasn’t done that lately though. He is nine now, so close to being a man grown. He does not crawl into her bed ~~that often~~ anymore. And Jon is always there now.

Regardless, feasts and merriment, bad dreams and inconveniently ever-present husbands are not the trouble tonight.

Last night, there had been feasting and drinking to celebrate the queen’s nameday though the queen had not stayed long.

Tonight, the great hall is silent, almost deathly so, as the snow falls outside. The howling winds, like unsettled spirits, are all he can hear.

Sansa may be queen but she was his big sister first. She is also the closest thing to a living mother he has. He’s never said that to her and he doesn’t know that he will. She’s going to be a mother and not to him.

(He thinks she might know how he feels about her and hopes she never knows of the pangs of envy he’s felt regarding the babe in her belly.)

Her pains had begun at sunrise and Rickon had slipped away like a frightened little boy when he’d heard her cry out.

But whereas earlier the sounds had frightened him, now the silence does even more so. He wants to go to Sansa’s chambers but he’s afraid. Osha had told him women sometimes die in childbed. Jon’s own mother had. What if something happens to Sansa? Who will love him the way she does? Who will love Jon the way she does?

It is night and he returned from his hiding place over an hour ago but he’s not seen Sansa or Jon or heard much of anything. All the adults had been busy creeping about as if they fear waking some monster and no one has troubled him over his bedtime.

(He secretly wishes someone would.)

He sits alone in the great hall where once his father had sat and watches the dying fire. His head begins to bob. He should go and seek his bed. Tomorrow, he may find the courage to go to his sister. Tomorrow, perhaps it won’t be so silent in the castle, making Rickon think of his ghosts.

“Rickon?”

His head snaps up at the sound of Jon’s gruff but kind voice and he scrambles to his feet. Jon looks tired, his face showing signs of strain like it sometimes does. If the woman has the babe, what has he been doing to look so exhausted?

But Jon’s tired face breaks into a smile when he faces him. “Are you alright? Where were you earlier?”

“I was…training.”

(It is not the truth and Jon’s smirk tells Rickon he doesn’t believe him.)

“Training, was it? I looked for you earlier.”

“You did?”

“Aye. Sansa wants to see you and we wanted to introduce you to someone.”

He scuffs a toe, not wishing to admit his worries. He is nearly a man grown and can be brave like Jon.

All the same, he is grateful when Jon playfully ruffles his hair and puts an arm around his shoulder. “Would you like to meet your niece?”

“A girl?” He did not pout one bit. 

“Aye, a girl,” Jon chuckles and Rickon wonders if maybe he did pout just a bit. 

He’d been so sure he’d have a little nephew to teach how to shoot an arrow and ride a horse. He supposes girls might learn that too if they wish. Maybe his niece will have a pretty singing voice like Sansa someday. She may even have a little brother she sings to. That thought brings a smile to his face and he lets Jon guide him up the stairs through the dark castle.

Inside Sansa’s chambers, the fire blazes merrily and Ghost is lying before it. It is quiet but not silent.

“There you are. I’ve been hoping you weren’t already in bed.” His sister smiles at him and his worries fly away.

Rickon slips from Jon’s grasp and rushes to her side. “Careful, Rickon,” Jon warns.

But Sansa’s already saying, “It’s alright. You can sit beside me. Just move slowly like you’re stalking a hare in the woods.”

He does just that and soon is nestled on one side of Sansa as she holds the new babe. Jon takes a seat towards the end of the bed and watches them all.

“Are you well?” Rickon asks his sister.

“Well enough,” she says with an amused snort before kissing Rickon’s brow and giving Jon a smile. “Here is your niece.”

Rickon looks at the little sleeping bundle with tiny little fists for several seconds. She twitches and whimpers even as she snoozes. “Why isn’t she still?”

“Little ones are usually like this.”

“She’s very red and wrinkled.”

“She’s just been born a couple of hours ago,” Jon says with some defensiveness.

“She will begin to look like what you would expect before long. Would you like to hold her?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Uncle Rickon,” Sansa says. He nods and she helps him to hold the little one just so. His practice shield seems heavier than her.

“Uncle Rickon. I’m your uncle,” he tells the babe who has brought such upheaval to his family’s day, deciding she’s not half bad.

(And surely, things will settle down again tomorrow.)


End file.
